Butterflies and Hurricanes
by RedSkyAtNight
Summary: On Hiatus. Another member joins the chaos of House's team, but she's got a secret... she's a House herself, what will that do to the dymanics of PPTH? First FF... Hope you like it!
1. Another Day in the Neighborhood

"**Butterflies and Hurricanes"**

**Chapter One: Another Day in the Neighborhood**

_Gregory House's Office:_

The sun shone softly on yet another seemingly typical day at the Princeton/Plainsboro Teaching Hospital: doctors running around, machines beeping quietly, patients in need of diagnosing, and Dr. Gregory House enjoying the last few minutes of General Hospital. His leg was particularly sore today, so in a well practiced motion, he pulled a small medication bottle out of his front pocket, popped the lid, and slid a small white pill down his throat. With a sigh of relief, he propped his legs up on top of his desk and got comfortable, as he turned up the volume on his little handheld television.

Just then the glass door opened. House ignored it.

"Greg, seriously, there are about 5 patients out there waiting to be looked at. What are you doing?"

"You have to ask?" House replied, not even bothering to look up.

"Oh yes that's right, I forgot. Seeing patients is what doctors do... you'll excuse me for making the mistake. Must have been the M.D. after your name that threw me off."

The caustic nature of the remark lost its sting from the lack of conviction in James Wilson's voice. House reluctantly pulled his eyes from his show to acknowledge his friend, who was now standing in front of his desk, hands shoved in his lab coat pockets.

House sighed. Wilson was obviously not in a jovial mood today."I'm hiding."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "From what? Doing your job?"

"No, Cuddy." House replied absently, as his blue eyes slid back to the televison screen. There was just something so fascinating about these insipid day time dramas. Must be the half naked women, he thought.

Wilson examined him with a semi amused smile. Perhaps his day hadn't been so bad after all, _he _at least hadn't gotten himself in trouble with the Dean of Medicine. "Cuddy? What did you do now?"

House's head shot up. "Why does everyone think that it is something that _I_ have done? You people are always discriminating against us poor cripples."

Wilson lifted his eyebrow and shook his head. He had no sympathy for House's whining.

"Fine. Cuddy told me to meet her in her office. And since I got paid yesterday, and she isn't going to ask me on a date, then it can't be anything good. So I'm hiding. She's mad at me, because I pissed off Vogler again."

Wilson shook his head again. Some things never changed."Good God House. Again? Anyway, last I saw her, Dr. Cuddy looked pretty pleased to me."

House shrugged and then looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well then, perhaps she is going to ask me on a date. Ladies can't resist cripples. We're like puppies. Something to soothe their mommy instinct."

"House. That's perverse. Besides, I hate to burst your bubble, but I just saw Cuddy leave a few minutes ago." Wilson said, while trying to hide a smirk.

"Oh well in that case, I'm leaving too." House brought his feet down with a thud and grabbed his cane. He tossed the small television in his desk drawer and then got up and limped past Wilson. Pausing at the door House looked expectantly at him. "Well?"

"Greg, there's still 5 more patients out there," Wilson repeated.

House made a slight face, and popped another pill. "The kids are here. That's what they are being paid for. It's 5 pm. Time to go home."

Wilson finally smiled and shook his head for the third time in 5 minutes. "I don't know why that even surprises me anymore Greg. Alright let's get out of here."

The two of them finally made their way out of the hospital, albeit at a rate that had been about 5 times to slow for House's liking. James had insisted on saying goodbye to practically everyone and having a chat with them as well. Alright, maybe it had just been one person, House thought reluctantly, but he _had _flirted with half the nurses.

The oppressive heat of the day was finally cooling off in the waning light of the setting sun. House slowly walked over to his beautiful red Corvette that a mob boss had just recently given to him, House liked to think he lived a little on the wild side, and he gave a small nod as Wilson drove off in his sensible little Toyota. With a car like that, House thought, no wonder James was on his third wife. No imagination at all. Shaking his head once more, he slid into his car, and revved out of the parking lot, with thoughts of good whiskey and a Bach cantata running through his mind.

_Back in the hospital:_

Dr. Robert Chase was throughly pissed. House had left them high and dry with several patients _again_. It was now 6:30 and he was ready to go home. Fuming, he made his way toward the lab.

"Cameron," he yelled down the hall as a pretty brunette came into view. Allison Cameron turned and walked toward him, pulling off the stylish dark framed glasses perched on her nose and rubbing her eyes wearily with one hand. She held a plastic bag containing a vial in the other.

"Yes?" She asked, looking utterly fatigued.

"Where's the chart for the patient in room two?"

"I put it on the door. She's the last one. Foreman finished about ten minutes ago and I just finished mine. I was just going to place this specimen in the lab for testing tomorrow and then I am going home as well."

Chase shook his head with irritation. Great. Everyone was done, except for him."I can't believe House left early again when he knew there were more patients."

"He's been here since 6 am, he deserved to go home," Cameron shot back quickly.

Chase refrained from rolling his eyes and instead shot her a warning look, and at the sight of it Cameron shut her mouth into a tightlipped look of displeasure. He was too tired to listen to Cameron defending her knight in shining armor again. God, when was she going to get over that schoolgirl crush of hers? It had gotten especially bad after the two of them went out on that stupid non-date date to the Monster Truck rally. At the time it had struck him as quite amusing, but now he could see that it had sent the wrong messages to Cameron. She practically glowed at the sight of him.

"We've been here since 6 am too, remember?" He reminded her sharply. Then he sighed, feeling a little guilty at the sight of her slightly hurt expression. Cameron was a nice girl, and she meant well, he knew. "Listen, sorry. I'm tired. Give me your specimen and I'll run it to the lab for you okay?"

Allison smiled, small dimples showing as she handed the plastic bag over. "Oh thanks Chase. See you tomorrow okay?" Without waiting for an answer, the pretty brunette turned and practically ran toward the office space the three of them shared.

Chase watched her go with a slightly frustrated look on his face. He really wished that it was _he_ that was running out the door right now. Renowned fellowship or not, he was seriously ready to be finished with his day, and at times like these, finished with this job. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked toward the glassed in Lab that he and the others frequented often.

Strolling down the airy hallway, hands and specimen crammed into pockets, he daydreamed about how pleasant it would be to go back to his hometown of Sydney in Australia and soak in some warm rays. It would be pleasantly warm this time of the year, and high waves to surf on. He absently wandered into the lab, head still full of golden sand and turquoise waters as he turned to tell the technician present to place a sticker on the bag so that the specimen would be processed the next day.

Instead he stopped short in surprise, struck momentarily speechless. The normal white coated technician he had expected wasn't there, rather some stranger stood with her back to him, carefully inspecting one of the brand new, extremely expensive centrifuges the hospital had just gotten in a few months back. _What the bloody hell!_

Chase stood there, his mouth slightly open in shock as he examined the unwelcome intruder. The girl's dark hair fell in shiny lengths to about half way down her back, and her slender form was clad in a black t shirt, and a knee length hippie looking black skirt, and were those _pink_ Converse she was wearing? Dear god! How had she gotten in here?

"What are you doing in here!" Chase spat out aggressively, finally recovering his voice.

The woman turned around, and Chase was once again dumbfounded. It was a young girl. A pretty girl, but a girl nonetheless. She couldn't have been more than 18, with the exotic look of a mixed background and the most striking hazel green eyes. How had a patient managed to get into this room? Not that he really cared how. All he cared was that she got out, and she got out now, before his ass was in trouble. His day was getting worse and worse.

"Like I said before, what are you doing in here?" Chase repeated, aggravated. "You're not supposed to be in here! The waiting room is just around the corner. Please remove yourself from this room, and go back and wait your turn. I won't even bother to tell you how expensive the equipment in this room is. God, I am going to kill whoever let a patient wander around in here. Leave. Now." He noticed somewhat absently, that the girl's shirt featured the logo for the band Radiohead, one of his favorite bands of all time.

The girl listened to his tirade quietly, but her pretty features tightened in anger as he finished. Without a word of acknowledgment, she turned and stalked out of the lab, her skirt swishing slightly. Chase stared after her feeling completely frustrated. Whatever idiot had allowed her to get past security was going to get in trouble with Cuddy, he would make sure of it. If anything was damaged, he was going to strangle House, for leaving him with this mess.

He stormed out of the lab, his mood darkening as he realized he still had the patient in room two to attend to. Would this day never end? He paused in front of room two and impatiently brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes, and with a deep breath, he plastered on a false smile, and entered the room. A harried looking mother and her obnoxiously overactive young son were waiting impatiently for him.

"What seems to be the problem?" Chase asked politely.

The boy who looked to be about 4 or 5 would not sit still. Chase stole a look at the chart. Jason Black was 4 years old and 7 months old. God, he hated kids. Jason kicked his grass stained and muddy little sneakers against the side of the examining table as mucus dribbled down his nose.

"He's running a fever, and he's got a terrible cough." The mother said, looking more tired than Chase felt. Than to prove her point, the little boy let out a deep throat rattling cough that sprayed the front of Chase's white lab coat with green mucus. Great. So there _was _a way for this day to get worse. He hadn't thought it possible.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" The mother squeaked. "Oh please, let me help!" She reached over with a napkin pulled from her purse and proceeded to smear the green mess over the rest of his coat. Seriously. Kill him now.

"No, no ma'am." Chase said hastily, almost slapping the woman's hands away before she made an even bigger mess.

She nodded with worry, but bunched the napkin into her hand and sat back. Chase quickly examined the boy, wanting desperately the whole time to just finish as soon as possible.

"Is it serious?" The mother asked anxiously, as Chase finally finished.

"Just a cold ma'am. I'm prescribing a simple antibiotic alright? Here take this to any pharmacy and get it filled. He's going to be just fine."

He forced more smiles, as the mother ushered her son out the door and profusely apologized once more. _Leave lady. Just leave._

"Nope, don't even worry about it. Alright have a nice day. Bye now." Chase shut the door after them with a huge sigh of relief. Last one. Done. He made his way down to the office and gingerly removed his white coat and tossed it into a biohazard can. He could get a new one tomorrow. He was in too much of a rush to even care. He grabbed his sports coat from the coat rack and with a shout to the nurses at the front desk, ran out the front door.

He glanced at his watch. 7:15 pm. Not bad, Robert. Not bad at all, he thought happily. Still plenty of time to run over to the bar and meet up with some old friends. However as he slid into his shiny black convertible, threw on his sunglasses and peeled out of the parking lot, the image of two hazel green eyes uncomfortably danced around in his mind.

**A/N: I couldn't resist writing something. I love House, and I hope that I'm doing justice to David Shore's amazing show, and its equally amazing writing... Enjoy... I'll post again soon.**


	2. A New Addition to the Crew

"**Butterflies and Hurricanes"**

**Chapter Two: A New Addition to the Crew**

_Dean of Medicine's Office:_

House reluctantly made his way to Cuddy's office, he had thus far managed to make 3 consecutive rides on the elevator from ground to top, as well as use the bathroom twice, before she paged again, the noise as loud and insistent as Cuddy's voice in real life.

Now he was wandering down the oncology ward since it was the most round about way to get to Lisa's office. Lucky Wilson. He was situated the farthest away from the nagging head honcho. House had managed to avoid her yesterday, but no such luck today. She had spotted him ducking behind a door, which unfortunately happened to be glass and had in her sharpest voice ordered him to her office, before spinning off into the opposite direction of him.

"Oh, look at that, patients to be seen! Can't have them dying on us now, can we? That's a lawsuit just waiting to happen, and we _really_ can't have that, right?" House yelled, at her rapidly disappearing back.

Cuddy's office now loomed in House's sights. He slowed his already leisurely pace down to an almost imperceptible rate of movement. He was sure that if he had been racing a snail at that very moment, the snail would win. House pondered if he could still make some kind of get away.

Just then, Lisa's office door opened. Damn. Too late. A slender dark haired figure dressed sensibly in a dark woven skirt and matching jacket, stepped out. Lisa looked over and spotted the truant doctor.

"House. My office. NOW." Cuddy ordered coldly, and she turned and held the door open for him expectantly.

He limped in slowly and as dramatically as possible, hoping to score some sympathy votes. Nope. Nothing. She sure was a hard one to crack.

"Sit."

House sat.

"You know, you really could have a career as a dominatrix. You really have that domineering, hard as nails, I'm going to kill you attitude thing down," House smirked.

The blue eyed woman rolled her eyes. "Greg, I'm not even going to warrant that with a response."

"Well. Am I in trouble? Are you going to _punish_ me?" House raised an eyebrow and gave her his best licentious look.

Lisa Cuddy shot him another icy look, which somehow managed to convey both death and castration at once, and House very quickly rearranged his features into a less offensive position. She really was giving him nothing today.

"You are here today House, because we have a new doctor coming in."

"And?" House asked, bored. He looked down and inspected the smooth lacquer of his cane's handle. _Hmm... I wonder if I will finally manage to beat that level today?_

"She is going in your department." His head shot up, both cane and Game Boy forgotten.

"What? I already have _three_ pipsqueaks under my prestiged tutelage! I thought we didn't have the money for any more Fellowships. My god... what would Vogler _say_?" House dramatically pressed his hands on the sides of his face, pressing his mouth into a surprised O.

Lisa resisted the urge to reach over and strangle him. Instead, she sucked in a deep and not so calming breath before sitting down behind her large desk and shuffling some papers scattered about the top, carefully straightening them into a neat pile. She waited a moment for House to stop his hysterics before continuing on.

"We don't have the money, but she's not going to be a part of the Fellowships. She has been hired to help you. She will be taking half of your cases so that you have more time to research and publish."

"Excuse me? Publish?" House grimaced.

"Yes. Publish. If I need to remind you... you are in hot water with Vogler. He happens to basically own this hospital, and the only way I can think to keep you out of some, if not most trouble is to get you writing. So, You. _Will._ Publish."

"Fine. Publishing. I'll be sure to be _all _over that. I think the phrase is like white on rice?" House said mockingly, then sighed dramatically. "But, a woman, Cuddy? Really? You trying to assert your feminist ideals on us again? How terribly Susan B. Anthony of you."

He stopped at Cuddy's sharp shake of her head, combined with that lethal death stare. Seriously. He was wasting all of his best material on Ice Queen here. "Well, fine then, but this doctor better be damned good. "

Cuddy nodded, brightening visibly. This was a topic she was happy to discuss with House. "She is. An utter genius, and it was a complete stroke of luck that she chose to come to Princeton and not some other hospital. She found out she had some family here, and decided she wanted to reconnect. Although knowing who the relation is, God knows why."

Oh yippee. An utter _genius_. That meant she was going to be impossible to work with. House also felt sorry for the poor bastard who ended up being the 'family' that got reconnected with.

"How quaint of you Cuddy. That story makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. So when am I going to meet the little ingenue whom I actually should be getting down on hands and knees to worship for getting me out of clinic hours? You know how I _hate_ clinic hours."

"Well. I see nothing has changed."A melodic voice with the softest of Scottish lilts said from behind House.

House turned and froze.

_

* * *

_

"Hello_... Uncle._"

House opened his mouth, but for once nothing came out. There in front of him, was his almost unrecognizable niece. Granted it had been about sixteen years since he had seen her last, so it was justifiable that he had a hard time relating the little girl to the young woman in front of him. Come to think of it, she still looked twelve, so maybe he really didn't have an excuse after all.

Lisa smiled. "Oh good, Caitlin, do come in. Greg, I'm pleased to introduce to you your newest member."

"Still the same misogynistic bastard, I see," his niece said.

Barely recovering, he ignored the comment and turned to Cuddy. "Is this some kind of joke? She's like twelve! And correct me if I'm wrong, I was under the impression that we still had child labor laws."

"I'm twenty actually," his niece piped up, her distinctive accent rolling off her tongue.

She still stood by the door, leaning casually against the glass walls of the office, and to House's mind, looking a complete farce in her white lab coat and jeans. House ignored the niggling voice that reminded him that he didn't even bother to _wear_ a lab coat and he, himself, was also wearing jeans today.

"Twenty! Seriously, Cuddy. This is ridiculous. Wait... hang on... Vogler actually went for this?"

"No, House. It is not ridiculous." Cuddy replied dryly. "Your niece, Caitlin, has impressive credentials. Graduated with a pre med background from Oxford University at thirteen, Medical School from Johns Hopkins at seventeen, and has been doing research and diagnostics there for the past three years. Like I said, an utter genius and we were lucky to get her."

"What, no happy reunion, Uncle?" Caitlin asked laconically, finally pushing herself away from the wall and walking toward him.

House shook his head. "Caitlin. It's been a long time. So, forgive me, if it takes me a while to wrap my mind around the fact that my twenty year old niece, whom I haven't seen in some sixteen odd years, is supposed to replace me at my job."

"Oh I have no worries that you will. And quickly." Cuddy spoke up. "Publish, publish, publish. That's what I always say."

House shot her an evil look. That was _not_ what she always said, and she knew it, that witch.

"Go and get her situated, House. Oh, and introduce her to the rest of the team, will you?" Cuddy ordered. Her eyes dropped to the papers in front of her, an obvious dismissal.

House resisted the urge to either roll his eyes or kick something, as he picked up his cane and limped out the door, his niece following. His thoughts rolled restlessly through his mind. The last time he had seen Caitlin was when she had been four. Her mother, Anna, had stopped by and said hello, while she visited some old friends of hers from Rutgers University.

Anna had been a beautiful, asian woman, who oddly enough had been from Edinburgh, Scotland. She had married his then estranged older brother about five years before and they had moved back to her homeland. Soon after Anna House returned from her visit, his brother, Matthew, died of a heart attack. He had faithfully sent money to the last vestiges of his family, but every month the check would return uncashed, but besides that one forced duty, he had wanted no more to do with them.

So, Caitlin had wanted to come see him? Obviously with all the brains she had, she still wasn't smart enough to realize what a terrible idea that had been. He wasn't the mushy type, and so he hoped with all his heart that she wasn't expecting some fairy tale reunion. She could go to Cameron if she wanted butterflies and rainbows. He had nothing but bitterness and pain to offer, and that was all he _wanted_ to offer.

Glancing over at her, he could see that her features were dominated by her mother's traits. Luckily, he thought. The House brothers had never really been known for their fantastic looks. She was a pretty young woman.

Yet at the same time, her looks made him feel ever so slightly nauseated. He had spent a long time trying to forget Anna House, and now here was her damned doppelganger here to be a daily reminder of the only other woman, besides Stacy, who had managed to break Gregory House's heart.

He almost sighed. God, she was going to be trouble. He could tell already. And House hated trouble...unless it was him causing the trouble. He did enjoy that.

"How's your mother?" he asked awkwardly. What was he supposed to say to her? What did you say to a 20 year old? God he was old. He hated this whole thing. Hated this feeling of ineptitude, hated having to see the family he had spent years trying to pretend didn't exist, and hated that what little left good in his life was now also in chaos.

"She stills hates ye,"came the succinct answer.

An unbidden chuckle slipped out of House. "I suppose that shouldn't surprise me. Well at least _something_ hasn't changed. I always knew I could count on Anna to stay the same person that I knew and uh... hated."

He stopped suddenly, his leg screaming in protest at the sudden motion. Caitlin without missing a beat, smoothly paused next to him, her unique hazel eyes in constant motion, as she took in the sights.

"The truth." House said suddenly.

Caitlin's roving eyes finally settled upon his face. She had such a direct, intense gaze that House almost wished she would look away again. Damn it. House didn't like when people were able to out stare him. It was a skill he had honed to perfection over the years. Not to mention, she had managed to inherit her mother's ability to not just look _at_ him, but look _through_ him. Like she knew things about him that he didn't know. It made him uneasy.

She looked at him expectantly, those clear, bright eyes slowly unraveling him where he stood.

"The truth?" she repeated, ever so slightly tilted her head to the side.

"Why are you here really?"

"Sick of me already, are ye?" Caitlin asked wryly. "I'm here, uncle, for the reasons you've already heard."

"What?" she demanded at her uncle's grimace. "Ye don't believe me?"

"Caitlin. I haven't seen you in 16 years. That's a very long time. I hated your mother. I hated your father. What makes you think I didn't hate you too?" House snapped at her. God, he hated this unsettled feeling.

"Don't delude yourself," Caitlin rejoined quickly. "Ye didn't hate my mum, ye know that as well I do. Oh, and don't feel bad about hating me. I hated ye too. However, Princeton is a very good hospital, and as much I dislike to admit it, ye _are_ one of the best diagnostic doctors in the country. And Uncle- I deserve the best."

"Oh good, I see that my brother's egocentric, maniacal habits have continued to manifest themselves for yet another generation," House quipped.

"Well it's genetic, Uncle," Caitlin whipped back.

Well. She was quicker than he had thought. Maybe she wouldn't be so bad after all. That thought quickly left House's mind though. He was pissed that he had ended up being the poor bastard with the unwanted family forced upon him.

House realized that they were still standing in the middle of the hallway, and nurses, patients, and other doctors were flowing around them like a rock in a stream. Not that he cared.

"I don't think it's a good idea for the others to know that you're my niece." Not to mention, the last thing he wanted to deal with were the wondering gazes and inevitable questions about his family. Besides Cameron might become even more sympathetic toward him, although he wasn't sure how that would be physically possible.

"Why, ashamed of me?" Caitlin snapped, feeling hurt.

_No, Caitlin. Not ashamed. Angry. At what you represent, _House thought.

Then she sighed and reluctantly admitted, "you're right. My age is already going ta be a problem. I suppose that being related ta ye would be just one more strike against me."

"Ah, and you're intelligent to boot. Glad to see that you inherited something from me after all."

"Ye realize that might be a bit difficult ta do seeing as we share the same surname?" Caitlin stated, her eyes flashing brightly with amusement.

"Right. So go by... what was your mother's maiden name again?"House asked, as if he didn't remember every single detail about his former lover.

"Mackenzie."

"There you go. Good to meet you, Dr. Mackenzie. I'll tell Cuddy later that is what you will be referred to as."

House abruptly began limping back down the hallway, Caitlin trailing behind him. She suppressed a sigh of frustration. She hadn't even thought about how much trouble her last name was going to be.

They were just around the corner from the office space that House's team used when a shout stopped him once more. He impatiently turned around. Couldn't he just go five minutes without someone needing him?

However, the voice ended up belonging to James Wilson. The oncologist was threading his way through the hallway, his coat flapping behind him. The dark haired man came to a stop in front of House with a grin. Well, he was obviously in a better mood today. Probably scored with one of those nurses he had been flirting with.

"I heard Cuddy finally managed to lasso you into that meeting. So? What happened?"

House jerked his head in the direction of the young girl standing next to him. "Wilson. Meet my niece. We hate each other so we're not actually acknowledging the blood ties."

Wilson's dark eyes widened in surprise at the news. He turned and finally focused on the girl that he originally written off as an intern. She was quite pretty, he thought.

Caitlin smiled warmly and stuck outa hand. "Pleased to meet ye, Dr. Wilson."

Wilson took the hand eagerly and shook it. House had a niece? There was more than one House in the world? And she was Irish? English? What was that accent? God, she was really cute.

"Oh, you can call me James. Ah, I'm sorry I didn't catch what House said your name was."

"That's because I didn't say it," House said sharply. James was a good friend, but sometimes he had no moral limitations. Wilson had just met Caitlin and he already laying on the shmooze.

"Listen, do your little spiel Wilson, but I need her in the office in oh, two minutes ago. I have to go inform my team that they have a new boss now." With that he limped away, looking his typical peeved self.

Wilson turned to House's niece with a regretful look. "I'm sorry about that. I'm sure you understand how stressed he is. The hospital just hired a new doctor to take some of his case load and he's not too happy about it."

He leaned toward her conspiratorially, thinking that she might be impressed with all his knowledge of all the inner workings of the hospital, as well as his prestigious position. "So, anyways, nice to be meeting you... uh...?"

"Caitlin. _Doctor_ Caitlin House," she said a little impatiently. While the man was attractive, he was treating her like an overly eager, easily impressed child, and Caitlin hated condescending people. "And _I'm_ the person taking over House's caseload."

Wilson's mouth dropped. "Oh."

He was shocked. She looked so young! He didn't realize until she responded that in his surprise he had said that aloud.

"I _am_ young," Caitlin said, responding to his questioning look. "I'm very capable though."

Wilson shook his head again, trying to shake off his astonishment. He was also slightly embarrassed. That's what you get for posturing, James, he thought dryly to himself. The seemingly ignorant teen has turned out to be ten times smarter than he, and she had just caught him acting like a fool. "Oh, no doubt. If you're related to House, you must be."

"Now. Where's House's office?" She asked, her eyes darting to the corner she had seen House disappeared around.

Wilson helplessly gestured with on hand toward the corner. He still couldn't get over the fact that House had a _niece_. And she was a doctor. The one taking over his job. No wonder he had been in such an abnormally short mood. Well, shorter than his usual short mood.

"Just this way. Let me show you."

Turning the corner, he opened the door to the office, to see House facing him. The other three were sitting at the table, their backs to the door.

House was in the middle of his speech, as Wilson opened the door.

"...So that's the deal. I will be slaving away and sending the medical world into rapture with my utterly brilliant insights on diagnostics, and during those times, I will be replaced with Dr. MacKenzie, who will take some of my load."

House looked up and spotted Wilson in the doorway, with his niece trailing behind him. He gestured with his cane. "Ah there you are. There you are folks, the wunderkind of the hour. This," he said dryly, "is Dr. MacKenzie."

Caitlin stepped in from behind Dr. Wilson. She was feeling a little intimidated, although she masked it behind a steely gaze. It was a look she had perfected over the years, after finally tiring of the questioning looks from other doctors. She had read up on the three doctors that House had working for him and she had been throughly impressed.

Each one was an obviously brilliant doctor in their respective fields, although that was to be expected from anyone who worked under her equally brilliant uncle. Drs. Foreman, Chase, and Cameron, she recited once more in her head, trying to calm her nerves. There had been no pictures provided so she could only guess who was who from the back of their heads.

"How do ye do?" she said, her voice surprisingly strong and steady. "I'm Dr. Hou... uh, MacKenzie."

At the sound of her voice three heads turned in surprise, and Caitlin forced a smile as she got her first glimpse of her new coworkers. However it was one floppy brown haired, handsome face that stood out in the trio.

"You!" She said in unison disbelief with one Doctor Robert Chase.

**A/N: I know that the whole niece, daughter, etc. of House thing is overused, but I liked the possibilities it held. I hope you enjoyed the second chapter. Oh also, this story was going to be set right before 'Mob Rules' but I decided to change it to right before "Heavy' so some details might change. Lastly, thank you to my reviewers. I wasn't expecting any, so they came as a pleasant surprise!**


	3. It Comes Back to Kick You in the Ass

"**Butterflies and Hurricanes"**

**Chapter Three: It Always Comes Back to Kick You in the Ass **

_Diagnostic Medicine Office:_

Chase's mouth dropped open, an '_oh shit_' running rampantly through his mind. He couldn't believe his eyes. Standing there in front of him was the same girl he had thrown out of the lab yesterday. Underneath the new addition of a white lab coat, she was clad in a plain black t shirt today, with well worn looking jeans, her knees peeking through gaping holes, and as he peeked down, the same pink Converse shoes.

"You?" He repeated again, a sickening feeling spreading through his gut, as he stared at the girl he had been so rude to the day before. _No, please God, no._ "_You're_ the new doctor!"

"_You're_ Robert Chase?" She echoed, her nose wrinkling as if she had just caught whiff of something utterly foul, as she caught sight of his identification badge.

"Oh, kill me," she muttered to herself.

"What's going on here?" Another feminine voice piped up. Chase managed to finally pull himself out of his shock and glanced over to see Cameron, Foreman, and Wilson looking utterly confused. House, however, was just shooting him an evil glare.

Cameron spoke up again, this time to House, her blue eyes troubled. "I don't understand this, House. No offense, but you _hate_ publishing."

Allison turned and looked at Chase, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "And, how is it that you know her already?"

"Yes, that is _very_ interesting, Chase, do tell," House spoke up.

Four heads immediately swivelled in Chase's direction, Caitlin however, looked angrily out the window. He gave a sheepish grin, and a forced chuckle, as he looked at the rest of team, who were all now expectantly staring at him. How in God's name was he going to be able to explain this without telling them what a complete ass he had been?

"Eh, it's uh, really _quite_ funny... see, uh, I came across Ms. Mackenzie yesterday in the lab and uh, I thought she was a patient, so I told her to leave."

"Actually, that's _Doctor_ Mackenzie ta ye, and ye were quite the arsehole," Caitlin burst out, pissed. The stupid jerk had actually _yelled _at her!

Foreman choked back a laugh, breaking into a false coughing fit to cover the fact, his face tinging purple from the effort. Cameron shot him a look of amusement, while Wilson looked on, struggling to try to contain his own mirth. House, however, looked bored as usual.

"No offense, Dr. Mackenzie, but you _do_ look a little young," Foreman spoke up.

"Yes, yes, she looks a regular infant in swaddled clothes," House cut in impatiently. "Can we cut the crap for a moment and focus on the fact that things are going to change around here?"

Foreman, Cameron, and Chase whipped their heads back toward House. Wilson, however was using the opportunity to check out the girl that shared genetic material with his friend, and was finding everything to his approval.

"Now. Like I said, I will only be here half the time, so if you need something, run and whine to Mackenzie here, got it?" House snapped.

"Which means he'll be playing Game Boy for 6 hours a day now, instead of 3," Foreman joked softly to Cameron. She shot him a disapproving look, and Foreman sighed. She _really_ needed to give up on this whole House thing.

This whole situation was killing House. The very thought of having to publish something for Vogler's sake made him want to pop several vicodin, and drown them all down with lots and lots of brandy. Or whisky. Or anything with alcohol. Distracted, hetook a pill as he surveyed his team.

Three heads nodded. "Good. Now. I will be in my office. Don't bother me unless it's an emergency, and even then you'd better be dying. Or better yet a patient. God,gotta love those dying patients." House began to limp his way out, popping yet another pill as he went.

Wilson shot a sympathetic grin toward Caitlin as he also turned to leave. "I've got to get back to my own department as well. Good luck, Dr. MacKenzie." With that, the door closed and Caitlin Mackenzie House was left to fend for herself.

_Same room:_

Left alone, without a convenient excuse for ignoring the others, Caitlin reluctantly turned and faced the three other occupants of the room. They still sat at the table, now turned around in the swivel chairs to face her. She felt like a prisoner in front of her executioners, and entirely, absolutely felt the like the new kid that she was. Clearing her throat, she frantically scrambled for something to say.

"Perhaps ye'd better introduce yourselves," Caitlin's voice wavered ever so slightly. _Oh smooth, Caitie, real smooth._

"Eric Foreman. Neurology." The handsome black man said. He was a little older looking than the others, a more world wise expression on his face, Caitlin noticed. He was snappily dressed in a pinstriped shirt with a bright red tie, and black slacks. "Welcome to Princeton-Plainsboro," he continued, a friendly smile transforming his visage.

"Allison Cameron, Immunology," the other woman piped up. Caitlin took a close look at her. As the other female in the department, she hoped that Allison would help to make Caitlin's entry into the department smooth and perhaps as painlessly as possible. Allison didn't look like she was much older than Caitlin, with long brown hair swept up into a loose bun, and bright blue eyes hidden behind small glasses. She had a warm, welcoming smile that eased some of the intense flip flopping of Caitlin's stomach.

She turned and glared at the last person. He had enough grace to look sheepish and remorseful. "Robert Chase, Intensevist."

Caitlin was sure she hated Robert Chase already. He had been an utter prat to her the other day. Arrogant and rich, she thought. Plus, he was too good looking. Long brown hair fell in strands in front of his light blue eyes. He had a surfer look to him, with a button down shirt with the collar undone and the paisley tie tugged loose.

"Alright, then. As ye know, I am Dr. Mackenzie. Diagnostics of Infectious Diseases," Caitlin said, a forced smile playing upon her lips. Her stomach was still in complete knots, and she had to resist the urge to wipe her palms against the sides of her legs.

"If you don't mind me asking, you have a very interesting accent. Where exactly are you from?" Foreman asked, his dark eyes curious.

Caitlin flashed a small, but much more real smile. "I'm originally from Scotland. However, I've been in the States for about eight years now."

"Well, welcome." Cameron spoke up softly. She smiled encouragingly at the young girl, and Caitlin was grateful for the other woman's kind manner.

"Thank ye." She looked over at her new team, feeling completely nauseous but put a falsely cheery note to her voice. "Shall we get started then?"

_A few hours later:_

Just about two in the afternoon, there was a slight lull, and Cameron, Chase, and Foreman met back up in the office. Chase plopped himself down in his favorite chair with a sigh of relief, tugging at his tie with one hand to loosen it. It had been a very long morning that stretched into an equally long afternoon.

Cameron was sitting at the desk, peering at the computer through the dark framed glasses perched on her nose. Chase was pretty sure she was answering House's emails again. Foreman walked in only a few seconds later, also loosening his tie as he sat down in the other chair.

"Where's Dr. Mackenzie?" Cameron asked, not looking up from the screen.

"Talking to Cuddy, I think," Foreman answered, as he picked up an article he had been reading earlier.

Chase let out another sigh of relief, but this time for a different reason. He wasn't too excited about seeing Caitlin Mackenzie, especially after he had made such an ass of himself.

"That bad, huh?" Foreman asked, looking highly amused, as he peeked over the edge of his medical journal.

"Oh God, you don't even know, Foreman,"Chase moaned. "I was a complete jerk. I thought she was a_ patient_! How was I supposed to know? She wasn't wearing a coat or an I.D... Plus, can you blame me? She bloodylooks 15 years old."

Eric nodded, in understanding. "She does look mighty young. The way she dresses doesn't help either. How is she able to get away with that? I bet you a hundred dollars that Cuddy is giving her the dress code right now."

Chase smirked, "you're on."

Cameron looked up, a frown upon her face and shook her head. "Guys, don't even start. You haven't even given her a chance yet."

"I just can't believe that House hasn't put up more a fuss about this than he has," Foreman replied. "I mean the man hates doing any kind of administrative work. Actually, the man hates to _work,_ period."

"That_ is_ strange," Cameron acknowledged, looking a bit worried. "This isn't like him. I wonder why he's taking this so well. I mean, I know its been difficult with Vogler around, but still..." She trailed off, blue eyes clouded.

"Oh, I'm sure he plotting something." Chase rejoined.

Silence fell over the room, with the sound of Cameron's typing the only noise to be heard.

"How old do you really suppose she is?" Chase wondered aloud, a few minutes later.

Foreman glanced over from the scientific journal he had been perusing.

"Well, she looks 18, but obviously she can't be. She probably around your age, Chase, and she's just one of those unlucky girls cursed with a baby face. However, no matter how old she is, she is damned young to be in the position she's in right now. I mean, we've all got at least another 2 or 3 years before we can even think about doing what she's doing right now."

"But we _are_ doing what she's doing," Chase argued, feeling petulant. Somehow the idea of this girl getting the best of him made him feel uneasy. Probably because he had already managed to completely piss her off. "We diagnose and treat just like she does."

"That's not the point, Chase. It's the name that matters. She's got the all important title that we don't have. Not to mention those extra numbers on her paycheck that we most certainly don't have." Foreman replied.

"Eric's right, Chase," Cameron said. "She's got power that we don't have. Can you imagine being House's equal?" Cameron drifted off a bit, looking a bit dreamy.

Foreman rolled his eyes. Cameron_ really_ had it bad for House.

Just then the door opened, and the object of Cameron's affections limped in. "You guys have nothing to do? That's hard to believe."

"Just a break." Foreman replied quickly.

"I'm answering your email," Cameron's voice floated out from behind the computer screen.

_Sycophant_, Chase thought irritably.

Chase couldn't resist, his curiosity getting the best of him. "House, so how old is she really?"

Those intense blue eyes swerved his way. "Chase, why don't you just pass her a note in gym class, with the little check boxes for yes or no? This isn't kindergarten, I'm _not_ her keeper. Ask her yourself." he replied irritably.

He had just spent the past three hours looking over some new information on adrug currently in FDA testing. He hated anything involved with administration, although he did have to admit Cuddy wasn't too hard on the eyes.

God, he hated Vogler. Idiotic obese man using his money to flaunt his power, and probably compensate for a low self esteem. Yes. That sounded nice, and it made House feel slightly better about himself. He still felt extremely cranky though and his leg hurt. He popped a pill and glared at his youngest member in his team. Scratch that, he thought, Caitlin's the youngest now, by a good 6 years.

"Get back to work," came his terse command, as he turned and returned to his chains and shackles of paperwork.

As soon as the door closed, Chase closed his eyes, and Foreman buried his nose back into his article. Allison glanced up a few moments later, the corner of her mouth twitching upward as she shook her head in amusement.

_Later that day:_

Caitlin was exhausted. How the hell did they do this all day, every day? And this apparently was a _good_ day. No emergencies, no patients checked in, and no cases of unidentified diseases. She had spent most her day running around getting used to the new hospital, as well as seeing the dozen or so patients scheduled for the day, as well as the several walk ins.

At lunch time, she had walked past House's office, but found him in his typical foul mood.

"No. Apparently I don't have time to eat lunch anymore. Cuddy chained me to my desk until I finish reading through these articles," he had said grumpily, when she came to see if he was hungry.

So Caitlin rolled her eyes and left him muttering something about '_Vogler, pompous, and idiot_' and decided to make her way to the hospital cafeteria. At least she hoped she was making her way to the hospital cafeteria. She wandered around a bit, before realizing she had roamed into the oncology wing.

_Oh great Cait, now you're really lost._ She glanced around as she slowly continued the hall, looking for a sign to direct her into the right direction, when she suddenly slammed into someone, and papers fluttered to the ground around her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Caitlin apologized, as she bent down to pick up the scattered papers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the person bend down next to her, and then a hand suddenly grasped hers, stopping her from picking up any more.

"Dr. MacKenzie, it's okay."

Caitlin looked over see to her surprise, a smiling Dr. Wilson. "I've got it," he continued, with a laugh.

He picked up the last piece of paper, stood, and then offered a hand to the still startled Caitlin. Accepting the offer, she slowly came to a stand beside him, feeling her face burn with embarrassment.

"Where were you off to in such a hurry?" he asked.

Caitlin smiled sheepishly. "Ah, I seemed ta have lost my way. Would ye be so kind as direct me ta the cafeteria?"

Wilson glanced at the gold watch adorning his wrist. It _was_ lunch time and he _was_ getting hungry- he wondered- "Well if you wouldn't mind... perhaps I could accompany you to lunch? Then I could show you the way myself."

Caitlin was startled by the request. "Oh. Aye. If ye wish to. I mean I don't want to take ye away from your work."

"No, no. I could use some food myself. Come then, let me show you the way. There's a lovely little spot where you can take your food and eat outside..." His words trailed off as he started down the hall. Caitlin shook her head in amusement, and then scrambled to catch up.

* * *

It ended up being quite a pleasant lunch in which Caitlin rethought her earlier opinions of James Wilson. Wilson ended up being a good humored man, without any of the previous condescension that she had detected earlier and the conversation flowed easily.

"Do you mind if I call you Caitlin?" he asked.

"No, _Cait_lin," Caitlin corrected.

Wilson looked confused. "What?"

"That's how ye say my name... KITE-uh-lin"

"Oh... I see... That's beautiful."

The conversation paused as the two of them chewed their food. There was a slight awkward moment where both of them found themselves unsure of what to talk about. It was Caitlin who finally broke the silence a few moments later.

"How long have ye known my uncle?" Caitlin asked.

Wilson looked thoughtful. "Oh, I don't know, probably about 8 years."

"And ye are still friends with him? Amazing." Caitlin said in mock disbelief.

He laughed. "He's not all that bad. Underneath that acerbic exterior is a man who just wants to be loved."

Caitlin laughed a bit bitterly, somehow that remark bothered her deeply. She had grown up with the notion that House had wanted nothing of what was left of his family. "Well I honestly wouldna know. I havena seen my uncle since I was a wee child."

"What happened? House isn't exactly open with past history. Honestly, I didn't even know he _had_ a niece, or that she was such a genius." Wilson smiled at Caitlin.

Caitlin felt her lips tug into an answering grin. He might be a bit older, and sometimes bordering on sleazy, but she still had to admit he was an attractive man with a charming smile.

"My father, Matthew... he's Uncle Gregory's older brother. There was a quite an age gap, about 8 years or so. My mum has never told me much, but apparently, the two of them were never that close to each other growing up, and the differences were exacerbated when my father married my mum."

Wilson nodded at her as indication for her to continue, fascinated at this in depth look at a completely different side of his old friend. "Why is that?"

"Ye see, my uncle was in love with my mum. She's a wee bit younger than Uncle Gregory, and from what I've heard they were engaged and when she went home to meet my grandparents, she ending up falling for my dad. They got married and moved to back to Scotland where my mum is from." Caitlin continued. "Uncle Greg never forgave my dad."

"Understandable," Wilson said, feeling a surge of sympathy for House. God, the man simply had a terrible track record with the ladies.

"And the rest as ye know... is old history." Caitlin finished, her expression suddenly distant, and her eyes a little sad.

History filled with unanswered questions and childish longings for the father figure she never had. Anna House had always given vague answers to Caitlin's queries about her uncle, and about her parents' past. What little she had knew was what she had dug up on her own.

The conversation lulled as Wilson suddenly felt a bit guilty about prying into the girl's past. After a few more moments, he slowly changed the subject, and soon the two of them were enjoying more pleasant conversation.

After they finished, Wilson walked her back to the Diagnostic Wing, both enjoying the conversation. Wilson discovered that Caitlin had inherited her uncle's sharp wit, and Caitlin found that Wilson also had a razor sharp humor himself. Has to, she thought to herself, if he wants to keep up with Uncle Greg.

Caitlin paused in front of the glass doors to the front of Diagnostics and smiled at Wilson. "Thank ye for going to lunch with me. It was very kind of ye ta take time out of your schedule and do that. It's nice ta know that there is a friendly face around here."

Wilson grinned. "It was my pleasure, and please stop by for lunch anytime. I could use the break, and I enjoyed having company."

Caitlin smiled again as she turned and entered the wing. Perhaps things here at Princeton-Plainsboro wouldn't be so bad after all.

About an hour later, she had gone back to the Dean of Medicine's office, and had another conversation with Lisa Cuddy, who welcomed her warmly, and Caitlin brought up the idea of her going by her mother's maiden name, which paper work wise, fortunately happened to be her middle name as well.

Cuddy had looked thoughtful. "Yes, that's probably a good idea. Besides," she smiled, "with a man like Greg as your uncle, who'd want to be saddled with the name, House, anyway?"

Caitlin had smiled and decided that Cuddy would be a good person to have on one's side. She seemed capable and strong, and Caitlin had to respect anyone who could dish out to her uncle and have him actually listen.

* * *

When she got back, had picked up a few more files and run through them. Before she knew it, the next time she looked up at the clock it was almost 5 pm. With a tired sigh, she rubbed her temples, and then plopped herself into one the comfortable swivel chairs provided in the office. She considered getting up and seeing if House was in, but her sore feet voted against that.

Where was everyone? she wondered. She hadn't seen them all day. In Chase's case that wasn't such a bad thing, but she _did_ need to get to know her team. She sighed again. It was Friday, and she had planned on convincing her uncle to spend some time with her. She had come to this hospital with the ulterior motive of figuring out some of her family's mysteries. There were things about her parents' past that left her puzzled and confused.

Behind her, she heard the muffled sounds of mingled voices coming closer. Then the door opened and the softly accented voice of Chase, the feminine voice of Cameron, and the smooth tones of Foreman broke the silence.

"Oh hey, Dr. Mackenzie." Foreman said.

Caitlin turned around and smiled. "Dr. Foreman. Drs. Cameron and Chase. How were your days?"

"Uneventful, thankfully," Cameron replied softly, shooting Caitlin a small friendly smile. "How was your first day?"

"Yeah, what do you think of House?" Foreman cut in. Chase, however, avoided her gaze. Good, the jerk _should_ be embarrassed, Caitlin thought.

Caitlin gave a small crooked grin, "Today was alright, I think it's going ta take me a while ta get back into the swing of clinic duty. And House. Well, House was well, _House_. I'm sure ye know what that's like."

Three heads nodded in unison. They certainly did know.

There was a moment of silence where Caitlin noticed that Foreman was giving some kind of meaningful glance to the other two, with a slight head nod in Caitlin's direction, to which Chase suddenly shook his head violently. Amused, because she was sure that they didn't know that she was still watching them, Caitlin saw Cameron shoot a chastising look at Chase. Finally Foreman turned back around.

"Uh, listen. The three of us usually go out for a drink or two on Friday night. You know just to take a load off. Would you like to maybe come with us?"

Caitlin bit her lip. She would love to be able to get to know the team a bit better, but she _couldn't_ go with them. She hadn't wanted to reveal her age to them so soon, but with a mental sigh realized she couldn't turn them down without a good explanation. Damn it. She had been hoping to put this off longer.

Cameron noticing her hesitation cut in quickly. "Listen, it's okay if you don't want to. We just didn't want you to think that we were excluding you. We really want to get to know you better."

Chase muttered something under his breath about, "Probably thinks she's too good for us."

"_Chase_,"came the equally low chastising tone of Foreman, Cameron also shot him another disapproving look.

However, Chase's remark steeled Caitlin's resolve. She didn't want them to think that because she was in a position of authority that she was taking that to her head. She wanted them to like her. As much as she hated to admit it, their opinions of her mattered to her young psyche.

"Listen," she began hesitantly.

"You don't have to explain," Cameron broke in. "But know you're invited anytime."

"No, wait." Caitlin said, desperate for them to understand. "I _do_ want to go. I want to get to know you guys..."

Foreman cut in before she finished. "Good, come on then, we're going now." He began to shuffle her toward the door.

"Wait!" She almost yelled. The three other doctors turned around with looks of confusion. "I _want_ to go, but I _can't_." Before Foreman had a chance to speak again, she spoke again. "I'm... I'm... well. Uh..."

"Yes?" Cameron asked softly.

"I'm not old enough to go to bars." Caitlin muttered softly, looking down, her face flushing brightly, suddenly wanting the floor to open up and reenact the Biblical tale of Jonah and the whale, and swallow her whole.

"What?"

**A/N: Posted... simply because it is Tuesday... and Tuesdays are good days. :)**

**I forgot to state the obvious,I don'town House. Thank you forreading chapter three, I hope you enjoyed it. I would greatly appreciate any feedback you guys may have!Chapter four is written and will be posted soon.**


	4. Crashing Worlds and Shattered Hearts

**Author's note: Couldn't resist posting since today is my birthday:)**

"**Butterflies and Hurricanes"**

**Chapter four: Crashing Worlds and Shattered Hearts **

_Office of Diagnostic Medicine:_

Cameron, Chase, and Foreman stood there, three identical pictures of confusion. Caitlin lifted her eyes to give them a small sheepish grin, feeling horribly self conscious.

"What do you mean, you aren't old enough?" Foreman asked again, his head slightly tilted to the side, questions reflecting in his dark eyes. "Wait, just how old _are_ you?"

"Twenty." Caitlin replied meekly. _God, this was embarrassing_.

"_Twenty!_**" **Chase spoke up, looking completely horrified.

"Well, that's what I said, isn't it?" Caitlin snapped back, irritated at Chase's tone. "I'll be twenty one in a month and a half," she added, suddenly feeling tired, lonely, and like the utterly lost little girl that she was.

"Oh- wow." Foreman said. The three of them looked like they were shock, but there was also another expression manifesting on their faces. This is exactly what she was afraid of. They hated her because of her age. It was a problem she had encountered since she had entered college at the tender age of nine. Caitlin suddenly felt the urge to cry, and she couldn't stand here and take this anymore.

"Excuse me." Caitlin said brusquely, and ran past them, hoping with all her heart that they wouldn't see her cry.

_The House of Blues, an hour and a half later_

The bar was filled with the smooth sounds of the house jazz band, and the slight smoky atmosphere typical of such an establishment. Business was slow for a Friday night, the room only about half full, soft conversations floating below the noise of the music. The demographic of the bar ran more toward the older generation, forty years and up. Shoved in a corner that was the least haziest, looking conspicuously out of place, a trio of young doctors sat and all quietly nursed the drink in front of them. There was no talk at all as the three found themselves lost in deep thought.

"Damn. Twenty. I'd have never guessed." Foreman finally brought up the topic that the three had been avoiding for the past thirty minutes. "She's obviously some sort of genius."

"She's just a _child_," Chase said grumpily. He hated that every topic of conversation seemed to be about Dr. MacKenzie, and he hated even more that he found himself sucked into every single one of them.

"Robert. Just shut up." Cameron snapped angrily. Chase and Foreman looked at her in surprise. Cameron was _never_ angry. "You've been nothing but rude to her. She seems like a really nice girl, and young or not, she_ is_ our superior."

"Yeah, Cameron's right. You've been acting like a child lately," Foreman said. Chase was beginning to grate on his nerves, he thought. If he had a choice, it would have been Robert that had been left behind at the hospital and not the precocious Mackenzie.

"But, I..." Chase faltered at the dangerous look reflecting in Alison's eyes.

"No, Chase. Just drop it." Cameron ordered, her blue eyes flashing. Chase opened his mouth again as if to speak, but closed it again as he looked at Cameron's adamant look of fury. He bowed his head over his drink feeling slighted and angered.

Cameron felt irritated as she looked at her two coworkers. Obviously, she had been the only one who had seen the little girl hurt that reflected in Dr. Mackenzie's eyes before she had ran out the door. Cameron understood what she was going through, and the feeling only made her want to fix things, make the situation better for the girl. It was difficult to be in this particular field that was predominantly male with the 'boy's only club' feel.

Cameron had struggled herself with feelings of inadequacy on several occasions, most on House's expense. She couldn't imagine how much more difficult it must be for the younger girl who had to not only deal with her gender but her age as well. She silently vowed to herself to make friends with the girl. It would be nice to have another female around to talk to.

The three of them fell into another uneasy silence, as the smooth jazz notes floated on and on, going nowhere into the night.

_Gregory House's apartment_

When Caitlin pulled up to her uncle's apartment, she was surprised to see two cars, her uncle's sporty one, and another rathersensible looking vehicle, sitting on the street in front. She sat in her beat up Jeep that she had bought with one of her hospital paychecks at sixteen, and pondered whether to go up to the door or not. Finally, she determinedly pulled her keys out of the ignition and opened her car door. She tugged at the bottom of her t shirt, the motion full of unease and jitters, and walked up the pathway.

She could just barely make out the ringing of the bell through the door as she waited, feeling fidgety and nervous. The soft restrains of music filtered through and for a moment she contemplated turning heel and running, but then she heard a muffled voice shout out, and the heavy thuds of foot steps.

The door knob clicked and Caitlin was quite surprised at the face that greeted her.

"Oh, hello, Caitlin," James Wilson greeted her with a warm smile.

She did a double take. "Am I at the wrong apartment?" Caitlin asked worriedly.

Wilson laughed, as he held the door open so she could enter. "No, come on in. I assume you're looking for your uncle. I was just over for a visit."

Caitlin nodded as she entered the small apartment. It was surprisingly quite nice for a typical bachelor pad, tan with creamy accents, large comfortable looking pieces of black leather furniture, shelves crammed full of classic literature, medical texts, and sports magazines, but taking center stage was a beautiful glossy piano. House limped out of the kitchen, a glass filled with a warm amber liquid beaded with moisture in his other hand.

"Well, well. Caitlin... Should I ask why you are here? Or should I guess? Are you really that masochistic, or is it that you're just plain bored? I do like the masochistic angle myself... personal favorite of mine you know," House said, sarcastically.

"Cut the shit, uncle." Caitlin snapped, her nerves fraying, unraveling with every moment she stood there with his condemning eyes boring into her. _Damn it._ He was infuriating.

"I'm sorry, but don't you usually have to be post pubescent to use such grown up language?" House mocked, continuing to push not only Caitlin's patience, but her confidence as well.

Why had she come again? _Because he might be your father, you idiot_. Damn it. Here she was, desperately wanting, _needing_, his approval and hating every second of it.

"Fine." Caitlin said coldly. "If this is the way ye want ta act than go ahead. Act like a 13 year old for all I care."

House sighed. "Fine, Caitlin. What is it that you want? Money? Because I'm sure that my paycheck would be quite jealous of your paycheck."

Caitlin just stared at him. What had she been thinking? She was a fool. A damn bloody fool. He wanted nothing to do with her, and that cut her more deeply than she expected. "I don't need money, uncle," she said sadly. "I came ta see ye. That's all."

"Well. I'm busy," came House's terse reply. "New OC tonight. Can't miss it."

"It's Friday."

"TiVo."

Wilson who had been progressively feeling more and more awkward as the conversation began to escalate, cleared his throat and quietly said, "Well, perhaps this would be a good time to say goodbye, then."

Even his fights with Julie didn't have the same tension that was now filling the air, but then again the two of them had grown tired. Of fighting and of each other. The same arguments were recycled as if by mere habit, now old and stale feeling.

"No!" came the unison response from both Houses.

Both Caitlin and House turned and gave pleading looks to Wilson. Well, Caitlin gave a pleading look. House, Wilson noticed, was shooting him a look that read, 'leave me and I'll kill you... slowly... and painfully.' James, being the intelligent man that he was, stopped dead in his tracks.

"Well, you know... wasn't quite ready to go back home anyhow," he said weakly. Come to think of it, even this had to be better than going home. Not that Julie would be there to care. Not that _he_ cared.

"Dr. Wilson, I was just about to ask my uncle here if he wanted ta have some dinner with me. However it _appears_ that he has better things to do." Caitlin gave him a warm smile that made Wilson's breath catch. _Damn, she was cute_. "Perhaps ye'd care to join me instead?"

Wilson found himself grinning back at her, forgetting for the moment that he happened to be married. "Yeah, sure I'd love to. In fact I know this great little Italian place just a few minutes away-"

"Absolutely not."

Caitlin and Wilson turned around in surprise. House stood in the middle of the living room, cane gripped tightly in one hand, and brilliant blue eyes flashing with anger. "No way, am I going to allow you to take my twenty year old niece on a date!"

_A date? Good grief, uncle... jump to conclusions much?_ Caitlin tilted her head, challenge flashing in her hazel eyes. "Oh, and how are ye going ta stop us?"

"I'm going too. _And_, I'm sitting in between you two."

"Fine!" Caitlin snapped. As if she cared. A small sarcastic voice taunted her with her feelings of inadequacies and her desire to be accepted. _Damn it, Cait_, she thought, frustrated. She did care, and way too much for her own good.

"Good." House snapped back. His angry gaze landed on Wilson. "And, can I remind you that you happen to be _married_?"

Wilson nodded, feeling it best to not say anything more and provoke House further. The three of them walked out of the apartment in silence, each caught up in his or her own thoughts. Caitlin quietly rejoiced that House was coming with them; House finding himself irritated that his niece had actually managed to manipulate him into going, and Wilson pondered whether now was a good time to tell House that he and his wife were separating. No, probably not.

_A few hours later:_

Caitlin had to admit that the dinner had turned out better than she had expected. The restaurant was a small little hole in the wall, barely noticeable if one didn't know where it was, but on the inside, it was warm, and cozy, with soft yellow stuccoed walls, and flickering candlelight washing over the dark grain of the wooden tables. It was actually quite romantic and suddenly she was glad that she had not come here alone with Wilson. It would have been awkward and too much like the date House had pictured in the first place.

Away from the hospital, she was able to see a different side of her uncle, _perhaps father,_ as well. It warmed her heart to see the obviously strong friendship that Wilson and her uncle shared. James seemed to get House and all of his horrendous moods and downright terrible jokes.

As for Wilson, he became more and more intrigued with the girl who could keep up with his best friend's trash talk. With fascination, he noticed the subtle body language, motions, and mannerisms that proved that Caitlin was truly a relation of Greg's. He also found himself finding her more and more attractive. _Well, crap, James, you're in a quandary now, aren't you?_ He was almost twice her age. He was 36 years old. An old man compared to her, for God's sake.

House, however, was using the occasion to get drunk. He slammed down his second shot and then chased it quickly down with his cold Bass ale. Seeing Caitlin was affecting him more than he cared to think about. Anna and her influence practically oozed out of his niece's pores. Now there was a memory that stung deeply. He had meet Anna, and he had _known. _

The same way he had known about Stacy, that the two of them were meant to be together. He supposed Anna had obviously not felt the same, seeing as she had dumped him for his own brother. That was what had killed him the most, he thought. That it had been his own flesh and blood she had left him for, leaving him to wonder what Matthew House had possessed that Gregory House did not.

Glancing over at his niece, who was smiling brightly at something that Wilson had just said, he couldn't bring himself to feel much more than a sense of forced obligation and duty toward what could have been _his_ daughter. He had spent years trying to hate Anna. For what she had done to him- leaving him with only feelings of gasping hopelessness.

In his inebriated state, House was finding to his great vexation, that past memories- the ones he had barely managed to lock away for these past 21 years were flashing back to him with annoying clarity. In particular, the one that he had tried to erase from his mind completely...

_It was a lovely spring day for an exuberant 24 year old Gregory House. Today, he would walk down the aisle with the woman he adored. To his love struck eyes, the sun seemed to shine with a brilliance and warmth that had never been felt before, the sky more blue, and the clouds- the most perfect he had ever seen- were cotton candy puffs floating in a crystalline sky. Even the birds seemed to be warbling a more cheerful tune today. Everything about today screamed happiness, bliss, and joy._

_He grinned, as he drove toward the church. Only another two hours before he would stand before the alter. He had decided just a few minutes ago to forgo the golf game planned for the male half of the wedding party and go wait out the last bit of time in the little chamber that had been made available for him and his groomsmen. The breeze ruffled through his hair as he headed into the city of New Brunswick, the head bobbing tune of Michael Jackson's "Beat It" blasting from the radio._

_Nothing could spoil his day, Greg thought, happily. Not even his brother. He and Matthew had always had a severely strained relationship, but for the purpose of his wedding, the two of them had decided to lay aside their angry feelings and celebrate. Greg had even reached out the proverbial hand and offered the status of best man to him. He thought that this might have been the best thing he could have done. Matthew, had in the past few months been coming over to visit more often, and even Anna seemed to enjoy his company._

_Anna... oh Anna. Just the thought of her put a skip in his step as he got out of his car and walked toward the small, but beautiful Baptist church. Her jet black hair, those dark brown almond shaped eyes, and that brilliant smile that flashed so brightly against her olive skin. He had met her as an undergraduate at Princeton, and after dating for 2 years, had proposed to her just a little over a year ago, right after graduation._

_The air conditioning felt cool on his warm face as he opened the door. His tuxedo was waiting in the groom's room at the end of the hallway. Perhaps he'd put it on just a little bit early. His pace quickened as he drew nearer to the room, but then paused before opening it, confused. Soft, indistinguishable sounds were emanating from behind the door. House wondered idly if someone had left a radio on. _

_He opened the door, and felt his entire world cave in._

_The sight of two entwined bodies burned a hole into his mind, an image permanently marking, no, scarring, the grey membrane. There was his oh, so beautiful bride to be making love to his brother, a look of utter abandon on her face that he had never witnessed in their times together. He felt as if he had been punched in the gut, letting out a strangled cry, as his disbelieving eyes continued- against his own will- to take in the heartbreaking scene in front of him._

_The two illicit lovers had heard him and had immediately scrambled out of their compromising position, guilty expressions plastered on their faces, as they self consciously plucked at their scattered clothes, carefully rearranging what remained on their bodies into something slightly more respectable. Greg found himself at a loss for words. _

_"Why?" was the first thing that his uncomprehending mind finally managed, as he dully stared at one of Anna's lacy white bra straps, resting there so innocently against a traitorous shoulder._

_"I'm so sorry, Greg," Anna had said, biting at her lip. "I'm so sorry. I should have told you earlier. I just couldn't."_

_Matthew had looked at him, with a look of such pity, that a surge of overpowering hatred consumed Greg. How dare that wretched excuse of a human being look at him with pity? How dare Matthew take what belonged to him? _

_"I thought you loved me?" Greg had asked Anna, desperate to hear the reaffirmation of their love. _

_He just had to hear it, see it in her eyes, and he would even be willing to put all of this behind him. He loved her that much. Everyone made mistakes at times, right? He thought, desperately. Even at that moment, he knew how futilely pointless that question was, he had seen the proof with his naked eye. _

_Pity, the twin of Matthew's look, shone out of her brown eyes. "Oh, Greg," she whispered softly. "I do love you... but not in the way you want me to. It just wouldn't be fair to you if I lied to you and said I did. It's better that you find out now- before we both did something we regretted."_

_"Marriage?" Greg answered, bitterly, unable even then to resist the need to keep pushing. "Is that what you're talking about?"_

_"We simply fell in love at first sight," Matthew said, finally breaking his silence. "It couldn't be helped, brother, I'm sorry."_

_Greg turned on his brother, pure unadulterated hatred burning in his blue eyes . "Don't ever call me that again," he spat. "You're dead to me, you bastard."_

_"Greg, please, don't be mad..." Anna had pleaded, as Greg stormed out of the room._

_His world had crashed around him, leaving him with nothing but the scattered pieces of his shattered heart. As he walked out of the church, a single cloud had slowly drifted across the sun, leaving him in a dark, cold shadow._

After leaving the church that day, House had immediately gotten into his car, driven to the nearest liquor store and had proceeded to spend the next 3 days in such an intoxicated state that one of his groomsmen, Brian, had taken him to the hospital to have his stomach pumped.

Looking back, House decided that he had never really been completely abstinent from that day forward, whether it be drugs or alcohol, stone cold sobriety had not visited him since. About a week later, he had found out that Matthew and Anna had eloped and run off to Scotland.

The aching embers of pain had smouldered into a blazing hatred. It was a detestation that had sustained House these past twenty one years, and it had become such an inextricable part of him that he was loathe to part with it. Which was why he didn't want Caitlin to be here. Her presence was merely salt being rubbed painfully into an open wound.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he continued to examine his niece and his best friend. James was acting a little too solicitously toward Caitlin and House was slightly surprised to find that he didn't like it. It was the same feeling he had when Wilson had suggested this place for dinner. House decided to chalk it up to his chivalrous side, because he _knew_ he had no familial feelings toward Caitlin at all.

Caitlin was now biting her lip, and in the soft glow of the candlelight, she looked so like Anna that House let out a small gasp, as forgotten pain stabbed through his heart. Caitlin and Wilson turned and looked at him, startled.

"Are ye okay, uncle?" Caitlin asked, concerned, as she took in her uncle's pained expression, his dilated pupils.

It was too much for House to handle. "I'm fine," he barked sharply, as he pushed himself out from behind the table. "I'm leaving."

"What, now?" Caitlin asked, now completely confused. "Wait, why?"

He turned his head and glared at her, his blue eyes icy and distant. "Leave me alone, Caitlin. I don't want you near me. Just... just go _away_." House continued determinedly toward the door, wanting only to be alone. Always alone.

Caitlin stood as if to go after him, his words still ringing in her ears.

"Don't, Caitlin," Wilson said. He had seen that look on House's face before, and from past experience knew that to talk to House when he was in that sort of mood, was asking for soul crushing comments and hurt feelings.

"But...but-"

"Leave him be. It's what he'll want." Wilson gently laid a hand upon hers. "Please, Caitlin. Just believe me."

Caitlin stared down at the hand resting on hers and then looked back at the door that her uncle had just exited, conflicting emotions warring on her face. _Leave me alone, Caitlin._ After an anguishing moment, she sat back down to Wilson's small nod of approval.

_I don't want you near me._ Caitlin stared blankly across the table at Wilson, as pieces of her world began to slowly crumble.

**A/N cont'd: This story is obviously not completely canon. I have taken some liberties in each character's pasts and molded them to fit my own ideas. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and thank you for reading! I love to hear your opinions... so keep on reviewing!**


	5. Doubts and Malcontent

"**Butterflies and Hurricanes"**

**Chapter five: Doubts and Malcontent **

_Caitlin's apartment:_

Caitlin spent most of Saturday in a deep funk, wandering aimlessly around her apartment, which was still piled high with boxes. Discontented, she began to rethink her decisions for coming here, it had obviously been a erroneous decision, at least to her mind. Almost no one knew that she was here, so she could still make it back to Johns Hopkin without losing any face. In fact, even her mother was still unaware of her daughter's arrival in New Jersey. Caitlin was determined to keep it that way. Their relationship was a precarious one filled with tension, and half truthes.

Arriving in Princeton had been a spur of the moment idea. She had heard about the opening through a colleague in Maryland, and had been immediately intrigued, knowing that was were her mysterious uncle was located. On a complete whim, she sent in her resume and within just a few days was packing up and heading north. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, an adventure... yet now...

Her mind ran rampant with despairing thoughts_-- he doesn't want you around, Caitie... why are you here?--_ until she reached the inevitable urge to either scream or break something. Caitlin chose the latter. Reaching into the box labeled, 'kitchen,' she pulled out a plate, and with a frustrated cry, she hurled it at the wall.

It shattered with a loud, satisfying crack, showering the floor with shards of white and blue pieces of porcelain. She remained standing there staring at the mess, lost in a daze, until the sharp shrill of the phone broke her of her trance. She debated whether it was worth actually walking over and picking it up until her decision was finally made for her when the answering machine picked up.

There was a click and then a standardized message,_ 'the person you have called is not available right now, please leave a message after the beep_,' since Caitlin could never remember to change them, but also because she always hated the way her voice sounded on machines. Her ears perked up, and a bit of hope blossomed expectantly as the sound of the beep._ House? _

"Caitlin? Uh, it's Alison. Alison Cameron," the voice said, hesitantly.

Crestfallen, Caitlin stared at the phone, hope withering away as quickly as it came. Of course, House wouldn't call, that just wasn't his thing. _And remember, Caitie? He was serious when he said 'go away_'. Caitlin had to admit though, that she was a bit surprised at who the caller actually was. Cameron was the last person she expected to hear from. She absently noted that Alison was also one of those annoying people that managed to actually sound_ good_ on an answering machine.

"Listen, I just wanted to apologize for Chase's behavior yesterday. He can be a jerk sometimes."

Figures, Caitlin thought. Of course, Cameron would be apologizing for Chase. In just the few times that Caitlin had spent with Alison, she was pretty sure she gotten all that she had needed to know about the other woman. Cameron was a sentimental, soft hearted woman who couldn't bear for pain, either for herself, or for others. She had to fix things, had to make them better, and if not, she had to know that she had at least _tried. _The type of person that made Caitlin feel like a bad person, because there was no way she could ever be that nice.

The quiet voice continued, "I hope that we can be friends, Caitlin." Alison's voice paused, as if unsure to continue or end the conversation, "Well, I suppose I'll see you on Monday. Please, don't hesitate to call me if you need anything." Cameron rattled off her number and then with a soft goodbye, hung up.

Caitlin couldn't decide whether the phone call helped or hindered. She was disappointed that the person calling hadn't been who she had hoped for, and yet also was touched at the other woman's simple kindness, even if Caitlin knew that was simply who Alison Cameron was, and didn't really have anything to do with her.

Her gaze returned to the shattered mess in front of her, and she sighed deeply. Caitlin could suddenly quite easily picture the disorder as a metaphor for her life. Nothing seemed to be going right, somehow she had naively pictured this whole scenario going differently. One where House was a different man, who welcomed his long lost family with open arms. One where she strolled up and finally got the answers to all those things she had been left wondering for all these years.

She knelt down and began to pick up the broken bits of plate, her mind caught up with doubting thoughts. In a careless moment, a large piece sliced into her finger, and Caitlin jerked back, startled. She stared down at her finger, a sudden sharp pain jolting through her nerves traveling up to her brain to cruelly inform her body of her clumsy moment. She watched dazed, as blood began to well up, a surprisingly rich red, and slid down the side of her hand, her heart steadily pumping the liquid out of her body.

A single tear slid, unbidden down her cheek as she continued to examine her wound, and then another, followed by another, and then Caitlin sat down, right there in the middle of the porcelain debris and began to cry in earnest. For her stupid, childish dreams and wishes, and for the unwelcome slap of harsh reality. She sat there as her blood dripped down and sullied the white purity of the plate, leaving a unremovable dirty stain.

* * *

_House's apartment:_

Saturday did not treat House kindly either. He woke at five a.m., his leg screaming in pain, leaving him panting in agony and frantically grabbing for his bottle of pills. His sleep had been restless, filled with snatches of disturbing dreams that couldn't be remembered at morning's light, leaving him with an ominous sense of deep unease, and a profound ache of isolation. On top of that, he had a vicious headache to remind him of how extremely hung over he was.

After dry swallowing two Vicodin, the bitterness burning all the way down, he flopped back onto his back with a groan, reaching one hand up to his pounding head, and desperately waited for the sweet release the pills would bring. Staring up at the ceiling, flashes of last night began to haunt House's thoughts. Shit. This was the last thing he wanted to think about. The memory of Anna's betrayal of him had left him reeling with an intensity that surprised him.

He had ignored the memory for so long that he had foolishly and even arrogantly believed that it no longer bothered him; that he had put it all behind him. However, to House's discomfort, the fact remained that he still loved Anna. There was no hiding behind his clever witticisms and sarcastic remarks to convince even himself.

She, however, he thought darkly, had managed to easily drop him like an unwanted toy, leaving him with enough emotional baggage for several therapists and as if to add insult to injury, she had fobbed her daughter off on him. Somewhere in Scotland, she was laughing at him, he was sure of it.

House stifled another groan, pressing a pillow over his face, one arm tossed over it. When it rained, it poured, he thought darkly. Everything in his life seemed to be coming to a head, in a very bad way. His job, his life, his friends, his family... each pretty, perfect little picture, a false facade that was beginning to show its true identity -- cracking and fading around the edges.

The pills were beginning to set in. He could feel the numbness that it brought, the blissful nothingness that crept slowly into his leg, erasing away the feeling of each aching nerve ending like a rolling wave. House pulled the pillow off his face and stared at the ceiling again, his normal mask of sarcastic superiority falling away, leaving a tired expression to crease the corners of his eyes and pull at his mouth. The pills would do nothing for the small aching pain in his heart, and the pervading wake of loneliness that surrounded it.

* * *

_Chase's apartment:_

Robert Chase was feeling malcontent. He was sitting in his favorite (and only) Lazyboy chair, legs propped up, a cold beer resting next to him, and his remote in one hand. All the makings of a perfect, laid back Saturday in which to relax and enjoy the fact that he would not have to see House or anyone else at the hospital for another day and a half.

A rugby announcer's voice was blaring out of the enormous plasma television mounted on the wall; it was Australia versus England, and the Aussie team had an excitingly precarious lead over their fellow monarchial subjects. It was an edge of the seat sort of game, and usually Chase was right there cheering on his team, yet today he couldn't seem to shake his restless unease.

He shifted in his seat, frowned, and then crossed his arms over his chest as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him. Guilty. He was so guilty; inculpatory sensations assaulting him from every direction. It was the unpleasantly bitter taste of beer on his tongue, the abrasive, accusing sound of the man's voice coming from the t.v., and even the particularly uncomfortable lumpiness of his chair.

Regret. He shouldn't have gone to Vogler – but it was too late now, the damage was done. It had been a moment of weakness, of childish fears resurfacing, of doubts and low esteem. This was a side of Robert Chase that no one got to see. The frightened, shy little boy that had been left essentially fatherless at age eleven, and motherless at sixteen.

Oh, they knew the basic facts, but they didn't know the years of self doubt and the turbulent adolescence-- that he had to survive on his own, since his mother had been a terrible alcoholic and couldn't be bothered by her only child. They also didn't know about how he had no friends as a child, that the other children had made fun of him, because they all knew about his mother.

They saw him as the little rich boy who had it all growing up, given everything on a silver platter. That, however, hadn't been the case, it had been an empty one, filled with nothing but loneliness. His only solace as a child, had been his faith, his abiding trust in God, and the knowledge that he could spend the rest of his life making sure others didn't have to go through their problems alone.

Yet, even that had been snatched away from him. He had been an utterly brilliant child, and had gone into seminary school four years early, until one day his father had walked back into his life and with his overpowering, forceful demeanor, and manipulative ways and had essentially given the boy an ultimatum – become a doctor or live on the streets.

In Rowan Chase's eyes, the idea of his own progeny becoming a priest was worse than death, a waste of time, and intelligence. His son would become a famous doctor like he had – changing the medical world with his brilliance, bringing honor to the family name. The teen found himself in an odd situation, desperately wanting his father's approval and simultaneously hating the man with a passion at the same time. Unsure of what to do, he cracked under the overwhelming pressure and entered medical school.

It had jaded him, he knew. That deep faith that he had practically prided himself on, had in his life's defining moment had cracked, and he had failed. Failed so utterly, that the adolescent Chase had allowed his faith in God slowly slip away, because his young naive mind had thought that if he had so throughly betrayed God, then why would a deity want anything to do with him?

In hindsight, he could see what a stupid idea that was, but he found himself stuck in his ways, unsure of how to change, what steps to take, or where to even begin. What remained instead were those lingering self doubts, the ones that crippled even those with the most emotionally stable lives, and he, Chase thought a bit wryly, was far from being one of those people. He couldn't help but sometimes feel extremely sorry for himself as he looked back on his life, lament for his childhood washed over him in a powerful tide of emotions, in which he could do nothing but ride it out.

These were his justifications in why he had basically sold out his two friends, ones that remained weak and pitiful sounding in his mind. Essentially, he had panicked. When he had heard the rumors that House might have to let go one of the Fellowship holders, the image of a disapproving, and disappointed '_I told you so_' look plastered on his father's face had burned into his mind, and he had immediately known that he would have to do something drastic to save his job. To wipe that look of his father's face. To prove that he, Robert Chase, was not _just _the brilliant Rowan Chase's son, but an equally intelligent doctor of his own right. To show to the world that he was a doctor now because he _wanted_ to be.

He slugged back the rest of his now warm beer with a grimace. Back on the screen, the Aussie team was now being throughly trounced upon by the Brits, who had made a spectacular come back, and now seemed intent on humiliating the other team by creating as lopsided a score as possible. It seemed strangely symbolic to him.

Frustrated, and somewhat disgruntled, he threw his crumpled can at the screen, as the British team scored again, and there it fell to the ground, a lonely discarded piece of trash.

* * *

**A/N: Oooo, so sorry about the long delay. It's been hectic lately- finished up the last week of work, and then had to get ready for vacation and then I'm off to school. Anyways, a bit of a shorter chapter, and rather angst ridden for some reason, but I hope all of you enjoy it! This chapter ended up being very Chase oriented- that actually wasn't how I had planned to write this one... but lo, and behold, here it is. I hope his character sounds believable. **

**Thank you as always for reading, and even more for reviewing... this story is being written for my own personal enjoyment, but it's always gratifying to know that others can find as much fun in it as I do.**


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